The Dallas daily herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1887, 1887-02-14
soLILooUY THE THIRD.


hh-grrr--krrr-gnooch! By Jove,
how must have been snoring! l new
er felt so little like getting up in my
life, though the sun is pouring in at the
window, and the whistle of the part
ridge comes from the hillside like o
morning matin:
The breezy call of incense breathing morn.
The swallow twittering from the straw-built
shed.
I'm glad l came to Scotland-glad
we left the beaten track of tourists and
took up our quarters at this Highland
hostelry. l don't think | ever enjoyed
rambling through woods, and picking
ferns, or sketching hill-tops, half so
much, even on tho banks of tho old Sus.
quehana-my benson on her broad bos-
ON
I'm sure there must be something
about these Highland braes that nourish-
es rhyme, romance and all that sort OF
thing, for fellow seems to drop into
poetry as naturally rs Mr.. Silas Wegg.
LAUREL beg pardon, Miss Laurel
my study in Gray-says she knows / am
OF poetic temperament, and | am so
foolish rs to go hammering up verses to
prove it All, well When it is happi-
ness to be foolish, It's foolishness not to
be happy!
Seems to me I've heard some quota
ton like that, emily briefer. Heighol
Yesterday was red-letter day in my
existence. To be sole guide, assistance,
counselor and protector of to dearest
girl in the world for a whole day Of
rambling through forest and glen, is
what / call blessed privilege! We
explored Ben Voirlich-all the noun
tains in this country seem to be af-
ficted with Christian name of Benia-
min-spoke our little piece over Mo-
mans Rill, and ate our luncheon in
Lone Glenartys hazel shade"
think / must have spouted a whole
canto of "The Lady OF the Lake" at
different times, and how spirited she
was over the defiant stag-how her
beautiful eyes fill up at the death of my
gallant gray"
Well, it's blessing l know Scott by
heart 1t is precious little else l know
besides poetry and novels, but she de-
fers to me as if l were an emporium OF
information. Said she:
"Mr. Olden, you seem to feel poetry,
while other people, just say it. You
give il ring of reality that is more af-
fecting than finished defamation.
LIT must be because you are my
auditor then. Generally regard poet
~ as a combination of Enthusiastically ele-
waited words and ideas--a hyperbolical
expression of ultra-human sentiments in
ultra-human language. With you for
listener, it seems almost appropriate,
50 high rank do / give you.
She (archly)-"I wonder if l have
anything to do with the feelings which
prompt YOU to wind up an impassioned
poem with some absurd parody or bur-
lesque."
Lob, that is done for the purpose
of taking the edge off what you might
otherwise consider sentimentality-and
partly to convince myself that am not
growing sentimental in reality"
Shells sentiment such crime in
your eyes?"
Mot crime, but source for ridi-
Guile. Promise me not TO laugh-not TO
think me absurd-and I'll play at ro-
nance like the veriest lover of them all.
L have mighty leaning to itP"
She-"Some day you'll play at it in
earnest, and be the 'veriest lover OF
them all, or I am no phrophetess.
I-"Methinks the day has come-the
hour and the womanl Can you not see
that since l have known you-since
that happy day in Venice"
She (nsively)-"When you returned
nv book?"
I-"Ahl You did get the book?
Then il has told you that from the first
l have set up your picture in my heart,
and fallen down before it"
She-"'All on Summers day.
Are you not getting dangerously near
the brink, Mr. Olden-of the lake,
mean? You might wet your feet"
I-"Do Won think l say this IN vein
which justifes flippant Interruptions,
Miss Grsy?"
She-"Do you think treat you in q
way which justifies flippant gallantry,
Mr.. Olden?"
I-"You wrong me when you treat 40
gallantry the homage Of a man"
She--'Is quite as serious as he usu-
ally permits himself to be, or as he has
been during any summer vacation for
the past falf a dofen years. Who
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